


Impurity

by Lulzy (likelolwhat)



Series: For the Love of a Meme [22]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Community: skyrimkinkmeme, Gen, Identity Issues, Racism, Skyrim Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 13:12:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4102276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likelolwhat/pseuds/Lulzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Last Dragonborn is supposed to be a Nordic folk hero, savior of humanity. It wasn't supposed to be this way... Was it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impurity

**Author's Note:**

> De-anoning from the skyrimkinkmeme, [this prompt](http://skyrimkinkmeme.livejournal.com/4941.html?thread=11551309#t11551309).
> 
> Anon asked for an elven Dovahkiin getting their bloodline examined (due to the assumption that they're a descendant of the Septims, and thus have human ancestry somewhere). I took it a step farther and thus this was born.

Elaeli stares at the skeleton, blood pounding in her ears. It and the rustle of a cold evening wind are the only sounds for a long time.

Her thoughts whip through her mind, flashing between what the lightshow means - and it can only mean one thing, she's done her research after all - and what it doesn't mean. Investigations. No promotion to Emissary. No glory for the Dominion by her hands.

By her immortal ancestors, her entire life, her very _bloodline_ will be under the glass now. Every move, scrutinized. That tryst with her family's servant twenty years before? Jeopardizing the purity her parents worked so hard for.

Oh.

Her parents.

Which one of them is it, she ponders. She has never so much as wondered if they had any human in them, but that seems the only possible conclusion. How else is she... Dragonborn?

Her existence is an accident, a horrible accident.

As for the dragons... It is too soon, they are not ready to ascend yet. The Snow Tower has not truly fallen; it is only in mid-crumble.

Elaeli, meanwhile, is quietly shattering.

Imagining the inquiries, no, the _inquisition_ into her corrupted bloodline makes her head spin and her palms sweat. Her parents, her dear parents.

"By the gods! You can't be..." A rough, uncultured voice lances through her breakdown, and she flinches. She doesn't need her present company, a few bedraggled Nords and one Dunmeri bodyguard who watches Elaeli without bothering to disguise her disgust, voicing the obvious. She needs to report back to the First Emissary, get orders on how to proceed for the glory of the Dominion.

The Dunmer is watching with pity now, and Elaeli glares back. Perhaps she looks as lost as she feels. Perhaps she comes across as an injured animal, too crazed with fear to accept any help.

But it is pride. She is a daughter of the Dominion, even if her blood is tainted, and she will slit her own throat before she becomes some human hero.

So she sneers and turns west, marching with her back so straight it hurts. She ignores the protests of the guards and the starkly unsurprised mutters of the bodyguard, ignores the fact that she is alone in a barbaric land and only knows the Embassy is somewhere to the northwest. She even manages to disregard the rumble that suddenly fills the air and shakes the ground, and if - _if!_ \- it fills her heart with an unfamiliar longing and tugs her eastward, well-

She beats down the feeling, for she is no hero of men.


End file.
